


A Turnabout Detour II: Wild Life

by Viridian5



Series: Addictions-Turnabout [5]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark fic, Kink, Love Triangles, M/M, Serial Killers, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-07-15
Updated: 1999-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adding Alex to the mix forces Fox, Bobby, and Alex to reevaluate their roles and places.</p><p>(A <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/272">Turnabout</a> AU: What if the feds hadn't rescued Mulder from serial killer Bobby McCain?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Turnabout Detour II: Wild Life

**Author's Note:**

> Started November '98, right after "A Turnabout Detour: Wild Card." _*sigh*_
> 
> Uncredited: Fox sings along to "She and Mr. Jones" by Lords of Acid, while Bobby purrs a bit of "Cain" by Alice Donut. Later, Fox quotes a part of "The Second Coming" by W.B. Yeats.
> 
> Thanks to: the wondrous Feklar for her third Turnabout beta and quick beta turnaround. Tirinar, who gave me the nudge in the right direction I needed to get the subtitle I wanted. Holmes for psychological backup (some of it collected by me over the past year) on the goings on. Ladonna and Te for mix tapes. Te again for Alex-oriented notes.

_"[The Seven Deadly Sins] became such familiar `old friends'_  
_during the mid ages that each was associated with a_  
_familiar barnyard animal, to help remember them ...._  
_Avarice [was the] Fox..." _  
 -- The Rev. G. Bradford Hall; March 2, 1997

1\. ALPHA WOLVES  
_"With two doors to choose but only one bears your name_  
_You been drinkin' my blood;_  
_Well, I've been lickin' your wounds..."_  
 -- "Space Lord" by Monster Magnet  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Long Island City, NY  
November 6, 1998  
7 a.m.

Enjoying the cold, clean crispness of the morning, Fox sat at the edge of the East River and admired his view of Manhattan by sunrise. The sky blazed in blues, pinks, yellows and oranges. A riot of light and colors gleamed off skyscraper windows, sparkled off the water, and glowed from the 59th Street Bridge. Fox knew that pollution, the poisons of a mad society, made the sky's colors more spectacular, but he liked them anyway. He also appreciated the large bank of blue-gray smoke that hung over the city nearby and wondered if the firefighters had the blaze under control yet. Bobby never did anything halfway.

As Fox flipped one of his knives, it looked like he had the sunrise captured in the steel, spinning. It felt so good to be sitting here, free, outside, smoking a cigarette and huddling down into his leather jacket against the pleasant chill. He had changed into his own clothing and strapped his weapons back on immediately after the escape.

It should have been a beautiful morning.

"You're lucky I'm letting you go with your life," Bobby said behind Fox as he circled the third member of their group.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Alex Krycek snarled back. He had no weapon, because Bobby had confiscated it before letting him into the car.

Alex still wore only the thin, cheap institution-style T-shirt and pants he had left the building with. Some seepage from the knife wounds Fox had inflicted on him (two days ago? Fox couldn't be sure) stained the bandages on his arms. Fox didn't want to think how cold and torn the man's bare feet had to be by now after walking over stones and chunks of asphalt.

"Fox is one sweet piece of ass, isn't he? Well, you're never getting another taste."

Fox felt like he was watching two bucks butting antlers, battling to establish superiority during mating season. It would be funnier if [1] he hadn't realized that they saw him as the doe in question, and [2] they hadn't been treating him like an inanimate object lacking an opinion of his own, a prize to be won. Earlier, Bobby had ostentatiously kissed and caressed Fox in Alex's presence in an effort to mark his territory.

The display had left Fox feeling unclean, with every "affectionate" gesture tainted by its true purpose. He couldn't believe the intensity of the fury that burned through his body, especially when so much of it was directed at Bobby.

Fox knew he never should have let himself hope this could work out. Need and loneliness had overridden his common sense. He loved Bobby so deeply that it had become an involuntary action--like breathing, vital and integral to his life but also something he didn't even have to think about--but he had no one other than Bobby, 24-7. Bobby wasn't enough anymore. Fox suspected that Bobby's recent need to kill more often had started from a similar feeling.

Fox liked Alex and had enticed him into coming along in the hope that he could bring something new and vital to the partnership. If Alex had been the submissive type, it might have worked. But both Alex and Bobby needed to be the leader, the dominant one. They were already trying to kill one another.

"Fox, come over here!" Bobby said.

Fox had a bad feeling, but he stubbed out his cigarette on the ground and followed orders anyway. As usual. //What's different today? Why do I want to shove a knife down his throat now?//

He stretched, reaching for the sky on tip-toes, after he stood and couldn't fail to notice the avid gleam in the eyes of the two men watching him. //Is it so wrong of me to want peace and company? I can't believe that the only way I can get them is by consenting to being treated as nothing more than a prized plaything.//

Fox stopped a few feet away from them. They watched him so closely it made him nervous. "What do you want, Bobby?"

"Kill him, Fox."

For a long moment the words made no sense, as if they'd been spoken in a foreign language. Once Fox processed them, a wave of emotion he couldn't identify swamped him. "What?"

"Kill him. He's a risk to us." Bobby stroked one of Fox's cheekbones. "He wants to break up our happy home. For them." Alex looked at them sullenly, ready to fight.

"You promised me you'd let him live."

"I promised _I_ wouldn't kill him."

"You fucking _promised_, Bobby--" The open-handed slap Bobby gave him across the face shocked him and shut him up. He could only stare. It had been years since Bobby had hit him.

It had been years since he'd disobeyed an order.

"You kill him, Fox."

Fox remembered his last refusal to kill for Bobby almost ten years ago, and it had also involved a broken promise. Bobby had originally said that he no longer needed to kill, not with Fox around. It had made staying of his own will easier for Fox, nobler. Self-sacrificing. But a little over a week later, killing for pleasure came up again. A new partner, a new location, a new MO... Bobby had been buoyant at the thought of introducing his soulmate to the joys of bloody murder.

Fox had protested. He wasn't a killer--only two weeks before he'd been a federal agent who hunted serial killers--and Bobby had _promised_. Bobby hit him so hard his head rung before taking his knife taken away and throwing him into the dark basement alone to consider how wrong he'd been. Like his father had done to him.

When Bobby had opened the door, letting light and love in again, Fox had been only too happy to agree to anything his beloved wanted. Anything.

He remembered his first kill for Bobby, a businessman in a parking garage. Relived the rush of the first fast charge at the man, the way the fluorescent white light had flashed off the knife, the look of terror on the target's face as he saw his death, random and unforeseen, barreling down on him. The first plunge of the knife into flesh hadn't felt at all the way it had on the sawdust-filled corpses Bobby had trained him on. There was more resistance, and it caught, grinding, on something inside. The spray of hot, rich blood against his skin had maddened Fox into a dark frenzy, giving him the strength to yank the blade free and stab again and again and again. The rush and feeling of power had been like nothing he'd ever felt before. Afterward, Bobby had reminded him that he should have _slashed_, not stabbed, then licked him clean...

There had been no going back after that.

Fox looked at Alex, who stared back, inscrutable. He remembered the way Alex had spoken to him, without the foregone conclusion that he would agree with it all, a dialogue instead of one of Bobby's monologues. From Alex's tensed stance, it was obvious that he'd just barely held himself back from flinging himself at Bobby for that slap. It touched Fox deeply.

"No," Fox said, enjoying the flavor of the unaccustomed word on his lips.

Bobby moved to strike again, but Fox blocked it with his arm before Alex even got a chance to move. While Bobby stood staring at him in disbelief, he brought his hand crashing down on the side of his lover's face. The sting and sound satisfied something deep in him he hadn't seen for a long while. Bobby's head rocked from the blow.

"Fox." Just one word, but it reverberated with hurt and confusion.

Fox concentrated on the red mark his hand had left on his lover's face. It felt good to hit back. Powerful. But then he saw Alex moving to take advantage of Bobby's distraction and raised his gun.

"You don't make a move either, Alex. I didn't do this to give you an opportunity."

Bobby looked appalled and outraged that he'd come so close to getting blindsided. His face showed an unusually obvious clash of emotions. The psychologist still in Fox wished he had the time to study it.

"Then why did you do it?" Alex Krycek asked, sounding more than a bit peeved.

Right. Fox had been so overwhelmed by his sudden feeling of empowerment that he'd almost lost the point. "I'm not some fucking trophy for the two of you to fight over."

"Then who would you choose, Pretty? You can't have us both," Bobby said. No traces of condescension marred his voice.

//Why not?// Fox immediately thought, even as he breathed in deeper at the realization that Bobby was asking for his opinion, wanting to know his desires. Too late? Fox felt his heart breaking at what he knew now, the understanding of what he and Bobby had been going through recently. It was too late.

Getting captured and dragged out of Bobby's world for a while had clarified things. In his own way, Fox had now eaten of the fruit of knowledge and couldn't be some mindless apprentice //slave// anymore. He was making a decision. The first in... how long had it been?

"Neither, then."

It hurt, but he couldn't go back to how he had been with Bobby, not now. It would eat him alive. He barely knew Alex, certainly not enough to run off alone with him, and Bobby would hunt them down anyway. The only way for that second possibility to work at all was if he killed the man who had been his world and all the love in it for the last ten years.

Better to remove himself from the board. In all that time, he'd never been alone, but he could relearn. He would find a way to get by, somehow. Maybe Bobby would hunt him, but it would be him alone.

It might make things easier.

"Fox." Bobby moved closer. Only Fox could make out the desperate disbelief and despair in his dark sable eyes and impassive features. In a ragged whisper, he said, "But I love you."

This was choice and responsibility, and it hurt more than anything Fox had ever known. It felt like his throat was swelling shut, and he couldn't breathe. Rocks seem to press down on his chest. //Rage at me! Say something stupid and insensitive. Try to hit me and control me. But stop looking at me like that! You're making this so much harder...//

Just as softly, he answered, "And I love you, but I can't live like this anymore." Depending on how Bobby reacted, maybe he wouldn't have to.

"What's `this'?"

"Completely isolated. Expected to agree with your every word. I can't live that way anymore, and I don't think you can either."

Bobby looked back at Alex, who watched them intently. "Would having... him with us make you happy?" Bobby asked in a pained whisper.

"I don't know."

"Would it make you stay?"

//Is he bargaining with me?// "Yes. For a while at least."

"This isn't really about him, is it?"

"No, Bobby."

Bobby nodded, looked down, then asked, "Krycek, do your people know where we live? You can tell me the truth. If you want to come, we'll bring you along. If not, we'll let you go. You don't know enough yet that we'd have to kill you."

Alex couldn't entirely hide his surprise. "No, they didn't know where you live, but you can't stay in New York City. I don't know how many people survived your little explosion, but enough information gets sent out every day that the rest of the Consortium has to know what was going on and who's to blame. I suggest we get our asses out of here."

"Now the next question: do you want to stay with us or go off on your own?"

"I want to stay."

"Why?"

Fox couldn't read anything from the expression on Alex's face. "I see an opportunity with you two I don't want to pass up," Alex said.

Fox still couldn't entirely believe it; he'd somehow fixed things the way he'd wanted them. He had refused Bobby, and they were all still alive. Bobby had listened to him...

Unless Bobby had plans. Bobby did, often. He never gave in where he could find no advantage in it. Fox would watch him and watch well.

Bobby wouldn't just bulldoze over him this time.

The sound of Alex as part of "we" and "our" had been strange but far from unpleasant. "Thank you, Bobby," Fox whispered.

Bobby ruffled his hair. "I want you to be happy, Pretty. But if he makes you unhappy--"

"I know."

To Alex, Bobby said, "We have to sanitize the house before we go. After that we can hit the road and--" Bobby let a pair of handcuffs dangled from one finger, "leave you unrestrained."

"No way. That's not part of the deal," Alex said.

"Fox just argued so eloquently for you. Don't waste his effort. You can be cuffed to the door for a few hours or be left here. Your choice."

Alex looked at Fox, then said, "Fine," and held out his wrists. Bobby smiled and cuffed one, then opened the door, sat Alex down in the front passenger seat and cuffed the other through the very solid door handle. It left Alex stretched a bit until Bobby closed the door. He glared up at them through the window, then stared ahead.

Bobby handed Fox the keys before getting into the backseat. As Fox buckled himself in and adjusted the mirrors, he looked over at Alex and had to stop. The cuffs through the door and the posture they forced Alex into all spoke of _prey_. It made his mouth water and fingers twitch. Alex looked like he knew what effect the sight of him was having and would fight if Fox touched him.

Fox didn't know if he should be amused or appalled by the way Bobby had just played with him. Like hell Bobby didn't know what effect that display would have on him. Whatever, Fox couldn't help the wave of affection he felt.

For both of them.

One long hand rested on Fox's shoulder while hot breath teased his ear. "Let's get this started." Fox smiled and turned the key.

******************************************************  
2\. PACK RULES  
_"I look inside myself and see my heart is black._  
_I see my red door, and it has been painted black._  
_Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts._  
_It's not easy facin' up when your whole world is black. _

_No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue._  
_I could not foresee this thing happening to you..."_  
 -- "Paint it Black" by the Rolling Stones

_"Those lips move_  
_Yeah, I can feel what you're saying, praying._  
_They say, `The beast inside of me is gonna get ya,_  
_Get ya, get...'"_  
 -- "Love You to Death" by Type O Negative  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Alex kept himself alert, ready to defend himself at an instant, as he tried to anticipate what these two would do next. He'd already seen that he had no idea how Bobby would twitch from one moment to the next.

Alex had gone into this thinking that he could ghost in and do just enough to gain a place for himself, analyzing Bobby, Fox, and the two of them together so he could manipulate them better later on. Alex had taken and passed the Special Forces training course that would make him more resistant to brain washing and mind control, so he'd figured, with enough effort, he'd get through fine and remain himself.

Alex had underestimated Bobby's jealousy and paranoia. The lightning shifts in the battle of wills between Bobby and Fox had left him uncertain of what to do, of when to get involved. Alex still seethed at the memory of that hard slap Fox had taken. //For me.// Fortunately, Alex had also underestimated Fox as well as Bobby's love and need for his partner of ten years. Otherwise, all those grand plans would have been dust two hours after they'd been born.

Now it seemed that Bobby needed Alex to keep Fox, which didn't suggest that Bobby would resent him any less, but it gave Alex some leverage. He knew he could make this work, and he would.

Tension crackled through the car, and Alex felt Bobby's eyes burning holes in his head from the back seat. The rearview mirror showed the killer lounging sprawled out, but his intense dark eyes showed the outward casual calm as a lie. Alex felt a deeper chill that the heater couldn't reach. Fox could pass in the normal world, but Bobby was so far gone he didn't even try.

After noticing Alex watching him, Bobby took out a cigarette and lit up, breathing the smoke all the way in before letting it out in three perfect smoke rings with a smile. Entwined with coils of blue-gray haze, he only looked more demonic. Alex felt his cock stir, but he'd dealt with world class manipulators before.

"You want a smoke, Fox?" Bobby asked.

"Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby put another cigarette in his mouth and lit it before passing it to Fox, who took it without looking back. The smell of smoke and the sight of that perfect white cylinder dangling from Fox's full lower lip just about drove Alex insane with wanting. He _needed_ a cigarette. He needed Fox. He needed to get loose of the damned door, get his arms free. He needed to make them both scream.

Fox noticed Alex's distress and, annoyed, was about to turn back to Bobby, but Bobby asked, "What about you, Alex? Want one?"

Fox looked surprised and suspicious, obviously wondering what the hell Bobby had planned. Alex managed to keep his tone even and bland as he said, "Yeah, thanks."

"He can't smoke it with his arms cuffed down," Fox said pointedly.

"You could hold it for him when he needs you to, Pretty."

Apparently, an agreeable Bobby set Fox's alarms off, but he just said, "Sure. No problem."

Bobby took another lit cigarette out of his mouth and handed it to Fox, who passed it to Alex. Alex took it between his lips and pulled it free, all too aware that it was damp from Bobby's mouth. He stifled the urge to tease Fox's fingers with his tongue; he would only openly antagonize Bobby over more vital matters.

"Tell me when you need me to take the cigarette away, Alex," Fox said. Alex nodded.

Bobby and Fox obviously lived well. The cigarette was an expensive brand, and the Buick Fox drove was a high-end model that was as big as a boat, a direct descendant of the gas-guzzling dinosaurs that once ruled the roads. The only modern touches in it were the marked air bag compartments and the new features that had been incorporated into a dashboard that resembled the ones of old.

The neighborhood they pulled into also spoke of privilege and luxury. Large Tudor style homes sat on giant parcels of land under ancient trees. Fox backed into a two-car garage next to a black Cadillac.

Bobby immediately got out of the car and opened the front passenger door, almost spilling Alex out onto the concrete. Alex avoided injury only by bracing himself, but he almost bit through the cigarette while trying to stop it from dropping on him. If he set himself on fire, Bobby would no doubt just stand back and watch, completely entertained.

With a condemning look at Bobby, Fox took the cigarette away and stubbed it out in the ashtray along with his own. The words Alex intended to spit out got lost as Bobby unlocked one of the cuffs. But he didn't unlock the other; just grabbed Alex by the wrist and dragged him to the Cadillac.

"What the hell are you--" Alex started as he tried to fight. He couldn't believe how strong this whipcord lean man actually was.

"We're taking the Cadillac," Bobby snarled in a low whisper. "You're staying cuffed to it as I sanitize the house. You have any problems at this stage, I kill you here so fast Fox can't do anything about it. Got it?"

"Fox could hate you for it."

"Maybe, but he's security conscious too. I think he'd understand. Now get in and let me fasten you so I don't have to find out."

"That was almost polite."

"Enjoy it while it lasts."

Alex sat down and let himself be cuffed to the door. He could always get payback later on. Leather creaked under him as he tried to get comfortable. He didn't succeed with his arms drawn tight against the door. The Cadillac was older and had a faintly meaty smell beneath the smoke. A slight scent of sex also teased his nose. Most of the windows had been tinted black, reinforcing the impression that it was a vampire's car.

Alex watched through the window as Fox came up to Bobby and asked something. The car had to be soundproofed, because Alex couldn't hear it. He watched the two argue a bit in their black-tinted world before Bobby stroked Fox's face and drew him in for a long kiss. They clutched one another, melting together, and Alex watched Bobby's long hands slide down Fox's ass before gripping, making him writhe. When Bobby let go and walked away, Fox had the look of someone groggily trying to wake up from a long dream.

Then he unpacked the Buick and transferred the gear to the Cadillac's trunk. Three suitcases, a laptop bag, one toolbox, a shovel, and a tarp later, Fox opened the door and settled into the driver's seat. Flushed, breathing hard, moisture sheening his lips, Fox brought another jolt to Alex's cock, but he couldn't afford to let himself go stupid with lust.

Then Fox turned to look at him, and all choice fled. Those green-gold eyes felt so warm. "I told him to bring some clothes and a medical kit. I'm going to take care of you."

"Medical kit?" Alex couldn't help wondering what Fox thought Bobby intended to do to make him need one.

"I want to clean the slashes and change the bandages on your arms. I think your feet might need some help too."

Now that Fox had brought it up, Alex's bare feet started to hurt. The earlier adrenaline must have stopped him from feeling it.

"I don't imagine Bobby took it too well," Alex said.

Fox's mouth quirked. "No, he loved the idea."

"Right."

"I had to let him know that I was going to keep on him about this. He was sending me a message by cuffing you to the door."

"You do that to your prey."

"The ones we really toy with. We play sex games with them for a few days before we kill them."

//And here I am...// "There are people up for this? It's damned uncomfortable."

"We take care of them, and not just with sex. That thing with the cigarette? We do that, hold a cigarette for them. Feed them. Give them a straw to drink from. You get the picture." Fox had gone vague-eyed. "Some people enjoy that."

//You do too.// Alex couldn't let Fox continue on in that vein for reasons he didn't even understand himself. "Is Bobby going to blow up the house?"

"Doesn't have to. We haven't been here long. He lived in the South Orange house for years, and he was more into trophies then." Fox's look turned sad and almost proud at the same time, a war fighting itself right in front of Alex. "He said I was the only trophy he needed anymore."

Alex wanted to touch Fox, hold him. It must have showed in Alex's eyes, because Fox slid in close for a kiss. It almost hurt how much he wanted this, and, at this point, the thought of Bobby coming back at any time only added an edge to the desire. Fox was almost on his lap, and his hips bucked. He felt hands at his waist, then heard Fox mutter something crude.

"What?" Alex panted.

"These pants they gave you. They have an elastic band at the waist, no fly. I'd have to get off you and lift your hips up to take them down to get to your--"

The door to the garage from the house opened, and Fox casually pulled away, knowing that a quick move would look suspicious. Alex put his head back against the seat and wondered how the hell he was going to survive when he was hard enough to cut diamond but had no relief in sight. Bobby made a few more trips to the trunk, then opened Alex's door.

"I did promise," Bobby said as he unfastened the cuffs, and Alex carefully massaged life back into his arms. But Bobby was looking... "That must be very uncomfortable."

//Shit.// "Well--"

Bobby pulled Alex up out of the car and flung him against the wall. From there, everything was blur. Somehow his pants ended up around his ankles with Bobby's tongue teasing his cock while the killer gripped it hard at the base in a fist so he couldn't come. As tongue, teeth, and lips expertly worked him over, he started to understand why Fox had looked so dazed; it was like being hit by a hurricane focused completely on you alone. The heat of Bobby's mouth alternated with the cold of the garage made his cock feel like all the nerves were being stimulated at once. Seeing those thin, cruel lips taking him in spiked it even higher. If he didn't come now, he'd die, he was sure of it.

Alex didn't know how long Bobby tortured him with pleasure and pain before the killer pulled his mouth off, let go of Alex's cock, and stroked the underside seemingly all at once. Alex came and came with a scream. He would have fallen over if Bobby hadn't held him up.

Bobby got off his knees and stood, looking Alex over, turning his captive's head from side to side, before looking down at the pants with contempt. "None of our jeans would fit you; we'll have to pick something up for you. And you are pretty." Bobby leaned Alex back against the wall, then got into the backseat of the Cadillac.

Fox rushed over, and Alex saw that he had a knife in hand, ready if he needed it. No doubt he'd pulled it when Bobby had made that lightning grab. Fox looked at Alex with such hope and happiness that Alex panted, "So, did I pass the oral exam?"

"Maybe."

Alex pulled his pants up and sat down, jumping up a bit first at how cold the concrete was. His abused feet hadn't noticed. He shook his head at the memory of Bobby kneeling on it.

Fox expertly cleaned and rebandaged the knife wounds on Alex's arms, his mouth skewing unhappily, perhaps in regret at the damage he'd caused fighting for his freedom that first night. He then tended to Alex's feet, which had only dirt, bruises, and a few shallow cuts. He tried to dress his guest too, but Alex refused, preferring to put on the socks, boots, midnight blue sweater, and leather jacket himself. //Does he own one that _isn't_ leather?// The jacket smelled a bit like Bobby under the blood, cigarettes, and sex scent he shared with Fox.

Fox looked a bit hurt at the rebuff, but Alex had learned from the story earlier. If Bobby found a way to put aside his resentment, jealousy, and possessiveness enough, he could use Fox as a snare, get Alex used to them and having his every need tended. Once dependence started, he lost.

"Time to go," Bobby said in his soft, dead voice. Fox stood and offered Alex a hand up, which Alex accepted. He followed Fox to the car of his own free will. "Once we get in the city, take the Holland Tunnel to 78, Fox. We're heading to our new home."

******************************************************

The silence felt a bit easier once they got back on the road. Fox putting an old Rolling Stones cassette on helped. He had also made a show of setting a lighter and box of cigarettes on the dashboard so Alex could smoke as he chose, but Bobby just smiled. The two put on sunglasses. Alex had to smirk. Vampires, indeed.

1130 AM had reported that Midtown was still a mess of traffic from the early morning explosion, so Fox took the Manhattan Bridge into Downtown to avoid it. Even without looking back, Alex could feel Bobby's satisfaction.

It finally started to hit Alex. He didn't know how many of his employers had survived. Or what the survivors thought of him. Did they think he was dead? Were they hunting for him even now?

Alex hadn't, couldn't have, known that Bobby had rigged the whole floor to blow, turning a simple escape into a massacre. No way they'd forgive Alex for that.

He had burned his bridges thoroughly, and for what?

With the soundproofing and darkly tinted windows, Alex couldn't help feeling isolated and distant from the scenery passing by outside. He fought against it, knowing full well that accepting Bobby and Fox as his only world would leave him vulnerable. Alex felt a deep pang as he wondered what Bobby had done to indoctrinate Fox and leave him so biddable for almost ten years. How had Bobby turned a federal serial killer-hunter into a serial killer's partner and slave?

Outside, a New York City preparing for Christmas time sparked and bustled with flashing lights and hordes of swiftly moving pedestrians. It looked so strange swimming through black. Alex pointedly turned and kept his gaze on the lighter tinted front window. The city would be loud with cars, people, and bells, but nothing penetrated the car. Inside, all was dim and quiet, with only the sound of Fox's music--now the King in his early years, still wild and young--set on low to break what would almost be white noise.

Alex felt himself trancing out, so he picked up the box of cassettes on the floor. The selection went beyond eclectic, with representatives from rock `n' roll, blues, r&amp;b, alternative, pop, and country/western jumbled together. Mix tapes written in various handwritings caught his eye. One script looked particularly girlish and young, all rounded loops with big circles over the "I"s. You could only imagine that the writer had been named Cindy. Or maybe Cindi.

They all must have been stolen from victims. Dead people needed no tunes.

Once they left the city and hit the highway, Fox reached into the box for something new and pulled out a mix tape written in an angular script. Before leaving, his hand traced a circular pattern on Alex's. It seemed more casual than I-want-you-now, as if Fox just stroked the people around him as a matter of course. Maybe he did.

Fox popped it in and turned up the volume a bit. Fast industrial-techno spilled out, and Alex felt the car speed up a little. Fox's head rocked to the beat, and he sang under his breath, just barely in key, along with the sometimes shouting, mostly sneering vocalist as she described a kinky couple going through their options.

As Bobby quietly cracked up in the backseat, trying to keep a straight face and failing, Fox continued with it. "Work your body / Make you sweat / Work your body / Make you sweat / Oh, yeah / I'll tie you to your bed / I'll tie you to your bed / I'm gonna work your ass, motherfucker; that's right..."

After five more high-speed techno paeans to sex and drugs, something slower and more meditative came on, followed by a goth metal song Alex recognized, Type O Negative's "Love You to Death." Looking near tears, Fox sang along more seriously, but still quietly, to that one, putting a spin of anger and despair on the lyrics about a very willing slave doing his best to please his master. "I am your servant / May I light your cigarette?" In the rearview, Bobby's face became ever stiller as Fox went on. "Let me love you... to death... to death...

"Am I good enough... / For you? / Am I..."

Bobby all but flew over the top of the seat like a striking snake, hitting the eject button with enough force that the button almost didn't pop back out. Fox swerved onto the side of the road, almost throwing Bobby into Alex's lap, before putting the car into park and just staring straight ahead, face set into a perfect blank mask. Alex had no weapons, but he could throw himself in if things went bad.

"Fox?" Bobby asked as he took off Fox's sunglasses and stroked down one of those prominent cheekbones. Fox shuddered and closed his eyes.

Alex almost felt bad for Bobby, who looked confused and unaccustomed to being so. Almost. Bobby switched to another mix tape, and the sound of banjos and soft breathing came out, followed by a sometimes whining sometimes purring sometimes shouting malevolent voice doing a Southern accent. It was a serial killer's tale set in song, sometimes pastoral with banjos, sometimes thrashing with electric guitars as the singer spoke in sarcastic tones of the "incident."

Bobby purred the words he wanted, not bothering to sing. "You're a good `un / I can tell / Wanna get to know ya... _real well_..."

A smile tried to break out on Fox's face even as he fought it back. Their song? Still leaning over the top of the seat, Bobby whispered what sounded like encouragements and love talk into Fox's ear. Alex didn't know if he wanted Bobby's attempt at pacification and ingratiation to work, but he did know that it hurt him to see Fox like this. Fox finally nodded. Bobby got out, wincing at the sun, and opened the driver's side door to get his partner out. The blast of chill air hit like a slap.

"You want to drive, Alex?" Bobby asked.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No. Look, we're taking 78 all the way into Pennsylvania. It's so easy you could do it in your sleep. If you don't, we'll just sit here."

"Then we'll sit."

"Whatever." Bobby pulled Fox out, closed the door, and brought him into the backseat.

Effectively shut out, Alex watched them in the rearview mirror. Fox, eyes closed, had collapsed against Bobby's side and shivered under the encircling arm and Bobby's lips against his hair. A perfect picture of comfort and devotion.

Alex opened his door and walked out, stunned by how cold it felt outside. He hadn't realized the car had been so warm. He got into the backseat on Fox's other side and settled in, while waiting for a reaction from Bobby. The killer just smirked, as if he found it amusing. As if he just _let_ Alex pretend to have free will.

//Bite me, you smug son of a bitch.//

Fox shifted a bit to lean against both of them at once and relaxed even more, while Bobby extended his arm to encircle Alex as well. An odd feeling of quiet and near contentment seemed to settle over them, as if time had stopped and they were the only people left in the world. Sometimes the car rocked as a truck or another car rocketed by outside. Alex felt things narrowing to just the inside of the car, with the length of Fox's body warming his and Bobby rhythmically stroking that special place on the back of Alex's neck that always made him go stupid from pleasure. He couldn't help pushing back into that hand. //How the hell does he know?//

He knew he should get the hell out of here. Now. He was losing it, and _liking_ it. But Bobby would shoot him dead for sure. He knew where they were heading. He knew what Bobby's favorite and very distinctive car looked like.

He had no choice. He had to stay.

He just wished he didn't feel so relieved about it.

Bobby stroked his lips against Fox's hair. "Oh, Pretty, it hurt so bad losing you. How could I let myself lose you again? Anything for you. I see you like this, and I want to kill those bastards again.

"And it's my fault. You told me I was being stupid, I was leaving a trail, we were going to get caught. I wouldn't listen; I knew better than you. Then your prediction came true, and they took _you_ while you were protecting me. If they'd killed you, I would have done myself in."

Fox's eyes shot open, and he looked up. "No."

"Yeah, really. Ten years is a long time for any bond in this fucking world. I love you, Fox.

"I forgot that I may have you, but you should have me too. I kinda liked it when you stood up to me."

Fox snorted. "Oh, sure."

"It's not something I'd want you to do all the time, but I want you to tell me if I'm being stupid from now on. I didn't listen to you, and look at everything that almost happened, everything that did happen."

Alex tried to keep his incredulity off his face; Bobby might be able to see it. What a line of shit. At least Fox didn't seem to be entirely taken in by it.

"I'm not going to let you slap me, Bobby, not ever again."

"I understand, and I'm sorry about that. That never should have happened. I lost control."

"Damned right."

"Fox." Bobby's voice sounded rough. "Those two days without you were hell. I need you. I need to feel you and taste you. I need your mark and scent on my skin, and I need to get that smell of sanitizer off yours. I need you to be rough with me. I need to feel you thrusting home inside me. Please."

Alex felt his last remaining brain cells drown, so he knew how this had to be affecting Fox. Fox's green eyes were molten, vibrant and wild, in his pale face. "You're sure?" Fox asked in a low rasp.

"Yes."

Fox struck fast and shoved Bobby down onto the seat. Alex barely moved in time to avoid being kicked as two sets of booted legs came up. It left him standing, crushed against the back of the driver's seat.

"You going to watch, Alex, or participate?" Bobby panted before Fox crushed his mouth with savage kisses.

"There's no room to participate." Though God knew Alex sure as hell wanted to. It made Alex painfully hard to watch Fox pull away to slit Bobby's bootlaces with a switchblade, yank off his boots, pull his jeans off, and grind against that lean body. The feel of Fox's denim-clad crotch rubbing against his bare cock seemed to be driving Bobby beyond coherency. Alex understood completely.

"Alex, get the slick out of my jacket now." Fox's voice left no room for argument. Alex grinned and took advantage of his momentary stillness to rummage through the jacket's inner pockets for the proper tube. Fox smirked viciously down at Bobby. "I hate the feel of driving in dry."

Bobby shuddered and panted. Alex never would have expected this, but he had to say he was enjoying the show.

"Alex." Affection lurked under the tone of command.

Alex smiled. "Yes, sir?" //I was going to miss this?//

"You have that tube yet?"

He'd been too busy stroking the tips of Fox's nipples through the sweater to keep looking. Fox didn't seem to mind. "Almost."

"Take your time," Fox said, and Bobby moaned.

"Yes, sir!"

Alex felt his knees starting to hurt from his cramped half-crouched position, but he was lost in the sight and feel of Fox undulating against his fingers, Bobby straining for more contact. They had to be hurting too from the way the limited seat space forced them to bend and constrict their bodies, and they certainly weren't complaining.

"You can get it now, Alex. Once you do that, I want you to strip my jeans off and slick me."

//What tough duty I have.// Alex pulled the jeans and black silk boxers away to expose Fox's hard and dripping cock. He warmed the slick with his hands before stroking it along the shaft and head, to Fox's appreciative groans. Bobby spread his legs and all but vibrated with impatience and wanting.

He didn't have to wait any longer. Fox thrust in hard, driving Bobby's head into the door, and immediately set a fast, demanding pace, to his very vocal approval. Watching Bobby being willingly and wantonly split by Fox's cock made Alex pant. Fox's firm, bare ass bobbing and pumping gave him such ideas, and his fingers were already slick...

"Do it," Fox panted.

Alex set his fingers in place. When Fox pulled back, he impaled himself on them, sheathing them in tight, molten heat. Perfect. His next thrust moved him slightly away. As he fucked Bobby, he fucked himself as well on Alex's fingers. Hard and fast.

Alex needed to come. He especially needed it when he heard and saw Bobby reach orgasm with a deep shudder and a low moan. Fox was still going, but a twist of Alex's fingers on his next backthrust brought him over too.

//Thank God.// Alex pulled his fingers out and went for his own pants. He yanked them down, but Fox's hand stopped him from reaching for his cock.

Crazy green-tawny eyes burned up at him. "That's mine."

Alex groaned. "Take it."

Fox twisted over to dangle off the edge of the seat a bit--without fully removing his cock from Bobby, who purred--and tongued the head before descending to play with Alex's balls. Rolling them in the wet heat of his mouth.

"I can't last much longer," Alex moaned.

Fox all but swallowed his cock, then hummed. Alex came explosively, almost blacking out. When he came to, kneeling on the carpet and slumped against them, he saw Fox open a switchblade in a quick, graceful motion and make a shallow slice on the side of Bobby's neck. Blood welled.

"Try it, Alex," Fox said, no longer commanding.

It was dangerous as all hell, but Alex couldn't stop himself from taking just a taste. One brief lick. A tang of iron sizzled on his tongue.

When Fox licked the smear of red left behind, Bobby sighed happily. Fox tongued the wound, then set his lips to it and sucked. They undulated together, rocking, all the earlier mock and real violence drained away.

With a final lick of his lips, Fox moved away and snuggled against Bobby's side. They all rested in silence, sated and boneless.

The car rocked violently from the backdraft of a speeding truck, reminding Alex that they were parked on the side of a highway, attracting attention. No way that anyone passing by during their tryst hadn't been able to figure out just from the car's movement what had been going on and that they didn't want to be disturbed, but they were drawing notice.

Before Alex could say a word, Fox started to unselfconsciously strip out of his sticky and stained clothing, exchanging it for clothing he took out of a bag he pulled out from under the front seat. Bobby did the same. Fox wiped up the leather. They did it all without a word and had a completely matter of fact air to them.

"You do this often?" Alex asked.

"Often enough," Bobby purred.

Alex fought down another spike of lust. The rich smell of sex permeating the backseat didn't help. Bobby moving in to kiss him deeply, invading his mouth with possessive strength and utter certainty, didn't help either.

Bobby moved away and licked his lips. "I'm taking the wheel, and we're all sitting in the front."

Before Alex could think to ask why, Fox had him dressed and out of the car, then propelled him onto the bench front seat, where he was soon bracketed by Bobby on one side and Fox on the other. One moment Alex had been kneeling on the floor, the next sitting in the front between them as they drove away. Years of being alone together and manhandling victims had given them an unsettling strength and momentum when they were united in what they wanted.

//My own two-piece Borg collective. Brian would like that.// Alex felt a sudden chill. Everything had happened too quickly, required too many split-second decisions, for him to even give a thought to his off-again currently on-again lover. He knew that Brian dutifully reported on him to their superiors, but he didn't think they knew he knew. But if the Consortium brought Brian's intellect, skills, and Irish stubbornness in to investigate the explosion, Brian would figure out who _hadn't_ died there for sure.

It didn't really matter, though. The Consortium would hunt Fox and Bobby down for vengeance alone. One surviving operative who may or may not have gone along with them willingly didn't change that. Besides, Bobby and Fox expected pursuit. Telling them any of this would make no difference at all.

//This is what happens when you abandon your life, no matter how dissatisfying it is, to kite off into the unknown. Suck it in, Sasha.//

But sitting here, with Fox's head on his shoulder and Bobby's hand on his thigh, he didn't feel as anxious as he maybe should have. With them, the threats and possessiveness were all out in the open.

Was he really worse off?

******************************************************

Fox brooded. It was an old habit Bobby had broken him of years ago, but it had returned in force recently. He was trying so hard to stay angry and distant with Bobby, but it was so damned difficult when his lover was being so accommodating and kind. Bobby no doubt had plans, but he always did. Meanwhile, he gave Alex more freedom than he'd ever given any of his victims.

Including Fox.

Fox fought against the sting of jealousy, knowing damned well that Bobby wanted him to think and feel this way. Knowing damned well that it would make him angrier at himself than at Bobby, just like his family had trained him. This could be Bobby saying, "You want him with us? Fine. Are you willing to risk becoming my second favorite, losing some of your share of my love, to have him around?" Yet Bobby had also offered Fox a more equal partnership and a resounding declaration of his love. Maybe Bobby gave Alex more freedom as a show of what their new ways would be like?

Fox had begged for change. Now he had to navigate it and his dueling emotions.

Fox rested his head against Alex's shoulder and his hand on Bobby's thigh. Bobby's stroked his arm against Fox's where they crossed over Alex's leg. Entwined. Alex was getting hard again from Bobby's hand stroking up his thigh.

One of Bobby's saving graces always had been the explosive make up sex. Whenever he realized that he'd done something stupid or particularly insensitive, he had a gift for using the right words and offering himself in exactly the right way. Like today. Of course, he rarely realized he'd been wrong.

Bobby had _let_ Fox dominate him. No matter his protestations of equality, he was the one always doing the letting.

Fox wanted to believe. He wanted to be able to trust.

And Alex watched them silently the whole time, sizing them up, no doubt coming to his own conclusions. His continuing presence made Fox happy and nervous all at once.

In another lifetime, Fox had gone into psychology in an effort to figure out what the people around him were thinking, not just out of curiosity but for survival itself. That background had given him insights that his peers had found uncanny, but he still didn't know what Alex or especially Bobby were thinking.

Hell, he didn't know what _he_ was thinking.

As they passed the sign welcoming them to Pennsylvania, Bobby said, "We're almost home, sweet. I think you'll love the place we have waiting for us."

Bobby had houses in reserve across the country. His employers wanted him kept very, very happy. They seemed content thinking of him as an eccentric, brilliant recluse and followed his stranger specifications for the houses with no questions.

Not that he let them know all his secrets. Bobby made the more important modifications himself.

"Where it is exactly?" Fox asked.

"Allentown. A few more blocks to the east, and we would have ended up living in Bethlehem."

Fox's mouth twitched into a smile. "'And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, / Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?'"

Bobby smirked. "I'm told wild rabbits show up in the backyard now and then."

//Bribing me with bunnies?// Fox just barely turned the giggle into a cough. Inappropriate emotional reactions like that suggested that his recent captivity and stress might have affected him more than he'd thought.

Fox was still disgusted at himself. Placed alone in a room for more than a few hours, and he'd withdrawn completely. He hadn't come back until Alex had been sent in. Did he really need other people so much that he literally couldn't function without them? Weak.

"Alex, give him a hug for me?" Bobby asked suddenly.

Alex smirked but did so, enfolding Fox against him. Fox struggled at first, but touch had its usual effect of tranquilizing him. He snuggled in. Bobby had trained him that way. Fox sighed when Alex began to stroke his hair.

Alex was starting to smell good, less like sanitizer and the Consortium and more like him and Bobby. Fox missed the Alex he'd met in that room, but he understood Alex's caution. Bobby could still snap, so why give him ammunition? But Fox missed Alex's sense of humor and self as well as his low, sexy voice, which reminded Fox of denim worn so long it had become soft and perfectly molded to the body that wore it.

It had been a long time since Fox had really wanted anything or anyone. He'd never asked for much, and he usually got it.

Under the cold blaze of a winter sunset, they pulled into a neighborhood of large, old houses, giant parcels of land, and ancient trees. Bobby preferred neighborhoods rich enough to give him privacy and space but not so rich that they would have their own security people patrolling. Bobby pulled up a driveway and searched the nearby stones until he found the hollow one containing keys. His boots gaped open, flapping as he walked, and Fox felt a rush of heat remembering how they'd gotten that way. Hell, he just loved to watch Bobby move.

Bobby parked the car in the spacious garage, then got out to pat the painted concrete floor. The wrong paint wouldn't let them clean up as easily. Then they readied the house: turning on the power and boiler, removing dropcloths from the furniture. The air smelled a bit stale, but Bobby never opened any windows until he'd modified them to his specifications. They finished much faster with Alex helping.

Finally, Bobby took Fox aside into the next room. "I'll be gone for a few hours, Pretty. I'd take you with me, but I'm going for presents, and I want them to be a surprise."

Fox's heart beat faster. Bobby's idea of housewarming tended to be a bit bloody. "Get home soon."

"Soon as I can." Bobby kissed Fox breathless, then turned to go.

"Bobby."

Bobby turned back. "Yeah?"

Fox couldn't help the wise ass grin that rose to his face. "Remember to bring back groceries too."

Bobby smiled, something almost no one else on the planet besides Fox ever got to see and survive. "Love you."

"Love you too." //With everything I have in me. That's what makes things so damned hard.//

******************************************************  
3\. INITIATION RITES  
_"Give me the strength to split the world in two now_  
_Yeah, I ate all the rest, and now I've gotta eat you_  
_Milking my nightmares and using my name_  
_You're stabbing my cortex when you know I'm insane..."_  
 -- "Space Lord" by Monster Magnet  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the clean up finished, Alex was bored. It was funny as all hell.

Fox returned from the next room alone, but he seemed to be over the brooding fit that had worried Alex. "Yeah, it isn't all sex and murder and excitement, Alex. Sometimes it's house and yard work."

"I'm that obvious? I just didn't expect it to be so domestic."

Fox laughed. "You have no idea. Anyway, Bobby will be back in a bit. Leaving us alone together shows that he trusts us."

Alex flashed his best devilish grin. "Should he?"

Fox smiled back and shifted in a way that made Alex's mouth water. "My, aren't we the troublemaker. But Bobby said he'll be returning with entertainment, so you won't be bored much longer."

Entertainment. While one small part of Alex felt some nervousness at wondering what they'd expect of him, another part smiled and smiled. "How long do you think he'll be?"

"A few hours." Fox took off his jacket, revealing a knife strapped to each wrist and a gun harness. When he turned to hang the coat up, Alex saw another knife at the small of his back.

Lust all but sizzled through Alex at the sight of the weapons and Fox in his natural habitat. And mating display? "When do I get to carry a weapon? You have more than you need."

"Bobby will decide--" Fox bit his lip. Alex could have finished the rest of his original sentence for him. Instead he said, "He'd kill you if he thought you had what he felt was an unauthorized weapon."

"Maybe he wouldn't succeed."

"Yeah, maybe you'd kill one another instead," Fox snapped.

Alex felt the strong urge to forget how devastatingly sexy he found Bobby and take advantage of this opportunity. He could knock Fox unconscious, get the two of them the hell out of the house, and go to ground somewhere Bobby would never find them. Or, safer, knock Fox out and lie in wait for Bobby, making sure pursuit never came.

Alex knew better. Ten years _were_ a long time, binding Fox and Bobby together in ways that only Fox could break, and Fox didn't have the need or strength. Not yet. Dead or searching for them, Bobby would only get more power over Fox.

It seemed that Alex was in for the long haul.

No reason why he couldn't enjoy it, though. "I'm sorry, Fox. I'll be good." He sauntered over and traced the line of Fox's right wrist sheath.

Fox's eyes dilated. "I don't think you know the meaning of the word."

"Which word?"

"Neither `sorry' nor `good.'"

"So I'm a bad, bad boy?"

"The worst." But when Alex leaned forward for a kiss, Fox held him back. "Can't do that. Bobby's bringing back entertainment, and sex takes the edge off. He'll know if we do, and he'll be pissed he went to the trouble."

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do?"

"I'm thinking shower, then nap on the couch. You can join me if you don't get too grabby."

"For the shower or the nap?"

"Both."

*****

Alex woke up to Fox struggling weakly, uncoordinated, in his arms. Drowning deep in a nightmare, Fox thrashed and muttered before screaming, "Samantha!" and waking up, breathing hard.

Alex stroked his hair, damp from the shower and now from nightmare sweat, and felt his heart pounding everywhere they were skin to skin. "Okay now?"

"Yeah. I can't... I can't ever remember what that one's about. Light and shadows."

"And someone named Samantha."

Fox's eyes widened. "Oh. Oh shit."

Alex remembered now. He'd read in Fox's dossier that Samantha had been the daughter Bill Mulder had given up as a show of good faith. In all the excitement of the past day, Alex had overlooked the fact that Fox was a member of one of the Families, with the legacy of all the mental and genetic experimentation that went along with it.

Now that the Consortium knew that Fox Mulder was still alive, they'd move heaven and hell to get him back.

Alex kissed Fox's tears away. "It was just a dream."

"It was _real_ once; I know it was."

If Fox was anything like the other children, his mind was a patchwork quilt of real memories, implanted ones, and blank spots. His recent incarceration must have jolted some buried things loose, God help him.

Alex kissed Fox's neck and enjoyed the feeling of the hammering of that runaway heart reverberating through his lips. "Calm down, Fox."

"I can't--"

"Calm. It's okay."

Fox slowly started to relax. He seemed to unfold to Alex, making small sounds under his breath as their bodies untangled and retangled. Alex had to wonder if he'd been such a ludicrously sensual creature before Bobby had rewritten him. //Not that I'm complaining, oh no.// Alex breathed in his skin with every overheated kiss and couldn't help feeling that he shouldn't smell of soap the way he did now.

//I'll dirty you up again just fine.//

When they heard the garage door roll open, Alex said something succinct in Russian. Bobby's timing was almost supernatural.

Fox laughed. "A little frustration makes it even better. I swear." He laughed even harder as they struggled in a duel of limbs to untangle themselves before getting off the couch. Not even hitting the floor on his ass dimmed his amusement, especially since their legs were still partly knotted together. Once freed, he rubbed noses with Alex, then dashed off to the garage.

When Alex arrived, Bobby and Fox were unloading groceries from the back seat of the car, a picture of pleasant domesticity. Yet Bobby's smile seemed to get deeper and deeper, even though his closed lips barely moved. His crackling aura of anticipation stoked Alex's own. Fox just became more oddly _still_ even though he continued to move.

Finally they returned to the garage, and Bobby opened the Cadillac's trunk, revealing a well-trussed man and woman, both deeply unconscious. Fox sighed. "Do you know there's a group trying to get carmakers to put an emergency release in every trunk so people trapped inside can get themselves out?" Fox asked too calmly, looking as if he tried to hold something inside him back.

"The sheep are getting above themselves."

Fox breathed in deeply, as if judging the bouquet of a fine wine. "Who are our guests?" he asked.

"George and Elizabeth Arkwright," Bobby answered softly.

"Of Arkwright Enterprises: `Making a better tomorrow today'?"

"The same."

"Nice choice."

"I don't get it," Alex said.

"There was no point in continuing the MO I used before Fox came into my life, so I adopted his `conscience kill' system," Bobby said. "If I bitched so much about industrialists, maybe I should put up or shut up. Arkwright Enterprises operates in an even darker gray zone than its peers. It owns more senators and congressmen, has more heavily polluting plants in poor districts, supports more self-serving studies of its processes and their effects on the environment, and pays its way out of more violations. George inherited the company from his dad, who inherited it from his father before him in a long line of rapacious robber barons. People like the Arkwrights fuck over the world, and we're just going to fuck them back."

"You're eco-terrorists? You have to be kidding me!" Alex said.

"Well, there's also the fact that we really enjoy killing." Bobby walked over to Fox. "How do you want to play this, Pretty?"

Fox looked cold and hyper-focused. "I have to see them awake and reacting first." It sent pleasant chills through Alex's bones to see Fox using what the Consortium had given him.

"Of course," Bobby answered cheerfully in what had to have been a ritual for them. He and Fox lifted the victims out of the trunk and dropped them onto the painted concrete. The Arkwrights moaned and started to move a little. Bobby took advantage of their disorientation to take the time to put a plastic car cover over the Cadillac.

"Most of the time we bait a con for the victims or hunt and run them down, but for a housewarming we just go for simple slaughter, no games, no frills," Bobby said as he and Fox put latex gloves on. "So, you going to watch, Alex, or participate?"

Only one answer would be tolerated now. "Deal me in."

******************************************************

Alex just sat, slumped on the floor against the wall, and breathed. His adrenaline high long spent, he didn't think he could find the energy for anything else. Yet he felt good, and quiet on the inside. He thought he might have blood even in his hair. He tasted it, breathed it in. A rich melange of blood, latex, fear, adrenaline, cigarettes, semen, and shit choked the air. He glanced at the large plastic-wrapped lump in the corner and the dull red streams staining the gray floor.

Bobby and Fox had coaxed and forced every ounce of pain and suffering they could from the couple, and Alex had helped. Had taunted, penetrated, and mutilated them in every way possible. After some experimentation, Fox had laid out the game plan, the route that would fuck with their heads the worst, cause them the most pain. He had a talent. Alex had a razor shard image of Fox holding and stroking Elizabeth Arkwright while whispering carefully chosen obscenities in her ear as Bobby raped her husband again to another agonizing orgasm.

Alex had lost control. His killing had always been cold and efficient, just a part of business that he nonetheless enjoyed. But Bobby and Fox's overheated presence, the feeling of their eyes watching him, had stoked him to a berserker madness, an insane enjoyment that had driven him on to greater and greater excesses. The feeling of power, invincibility, and belonging that had followed had been almost as great a high as the violence itself. He felt scared and exhilarated all at once.

Bobby leaned on him. "Fuck. That was..." He blew out another smoke ring. He looked boneless and emptied, sated in a way even explosive sex couldn't provide for him. "It hasn't been that good in a while."

Eyes closed, Fox shuddered against Bobby's shoulder. Bobby hugged him tighter. Fox had been dead-cold, a killing automaton, until the end. Once the couple had been proven very dead, he'd seemed to shut down. Bobby said that was normal for him. Bobby had boasted of having the smarts to choose a profiler as a mate, because Fox had given _him_ tips...

"I can see you having a future with us, Alex."

Fox opened his eyes, which looked as black as Bobby's from how deeply dilated his pupils were. "You'll stay, won't you?"

Alex knew that he had already decided long before this. "Yeah."

He found himself the focus of their mouths and hands, devouring him, welcoming him. Fox's latex-clad fingers left a streak of blood on his face that Bobby licked off. While speech was still possible, he had to say, "Bobby, my former bosses will be hunting us for what you did and for Fox. Now that they know Fox is alive, they won't stop." It was important...

"You mean your little super-secret cabal, with their plans to be house slaves to the aliens?" Bobby asked. Alex jerked up at that. "I know. I hacked into their files before I rescued Fox; it was a nice challenge. I know what shit they did to him in the past and recently." Bobby grinned darkly. "Well, Alex, in my experience, to best way to survive being hunted is to turn the tables on the hunters."

 

### End

The "serial killer song" is "Cain" by Alice Donut:

_"Guess you heard_  
_About the incident_  
_At the high school._  
_It's unfortunate._

_Out by Nag's Head,_  
_Diamond Marsh,_  
_They say the body_  
_Was found in parts._  
_You need good friends_  
_Times like these._  
_My heart's bleeding_  
_For the family._

_Good to meet ya._  
_You can call me 'Cain.'_  
_Good old comfort_  
_In the pouring rain._

_Yeah, good to meet ya._  
_You can call me 'Cain.'_  
_My heart's bleeding_  
_From all the pain._

_You're a good `un,_  
_I can tell._  
_Gonna get to know ya_  
Real _well._

_Marietta!_

_No one's leaving now._  
_No one's getting out."_


End file.
